


Type

by notaparty



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bonding, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaparty/pseuds/notaparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick and Tim discuss their "types." Tim doesn't seem to think he has one, but Dick quickly proves him wrong. Later, Steph and Babs discuss their types as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by that issue of Nightwing where Tim and Dick bond while doing that blindfolded exercise on the train.

“Let me know if you need anything else, handsome,” Our waitress said, winking and smiling at Dick as she dropped off our food. I might as well have not existed. As she walked away, her red ponytail swung back and forth with the sway of her hips, Dick’s eyes following her before I cleared my throat to get his attention.

I dug into my scrambled eggs. “So, which came first? The chicken or the egg?”

Dick looked confused and reached for the syrup for his pancakes. “Philosophy 101 over brunch, Tim?”

“No, you and redheads. Were you attracted to them first, or were they attracted to you?”

He grinned. “A bit of both. Also, just because I mostly date redheads doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to all kinds of women.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s the deal, then? It’s just hair.”

“Just a preference, I guess. I like the way it looks.” He shrugged. “Like you don’t have a type.”

“What?” I thought back to my past girlfriends and my current one. Different hair colors, different races, different social groups. “They’re all really different.”

He couldn’t hold back a smile. “Mmhm.”

“I really don’t.” I glanced over his shoulder at the door when it opened. Steph rushed in along with a cold gust, tugging off her hat and fluffing her hair. “Hey, Steph.”

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” She kissed me and slid into my side of the booth. “You guys ordered without me?”

“No, your waffles should be up soon. I told them to hold them until you got here.” I flagged down the waitress and gestured toward Steph. The waitress finally acknowledged me and went to get the waffles.

“Good, thanks.” She hopped out of the booth again, leaving her purse. “Be right back. Bathroom.”

I watched her back as she walked off. She was wearing leggings as pants, which I knew a lot of girls were against for whatever reason, but I thought it worked for her. She was nice and curvy, a little thicker in the thighs, hips and butt than I knew she liked, but I didn’t mind in the slightest. She felt good under my hands when we were in bed together or when she was curled up against my side on the couch.

Dick cleared his throat, eyes smiling behind his coffee mug. “You’re gonna laser a hole in her ass if you keep staring that hard. No type, hm?”

“What?” I looked back at him, feeling my face heat up. Even if she was my girlfriend, ogling her butt in public was impolite. Then it clicked—the common thread between all of my girlfriends. “Oh.”

“Case closed.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steph and Babs have a type of their own.

“Does he know?” I asked Babs, sitting on the edge of her desk. I had a big bowl of chips cradled in the hole my crossed legs created. 

“Hm?” She popped her head out from under her desk, where she had been tinkering with her computer for the past hour and a half. Something about the screens, which kept coming on and off the whole afternoon. “Chips, please.”

I leaned down to hand her the bowl. “The whole Nightwing-cam thing. Does Dick know that you have it?”

“Sort of.” She slid all the way out from under her desk on her wheeled plank thing so she could sit up and take the bowl. “He’s aware that I monitor him, but maybe not this much.”

“Mm.” I stared at the screen where the cam was, pointed into his apartment. Just the living room, though, the fire escape outside of the window. From what I could tell, that must have been where he came in and out of when he went on patrol. He was standing in front of the TV in shorts, no shirt, eating cereal. Eventually, he turned toward the camera to walk around his couch to get to another room. God, his face was damn near perfect, but his body… Just… his everything. Shoulders? Perfect. Chest and abs? Same. Legs? Also same. Even his chest hair was nice, and that little trail below his bellybutton that I was weirdly into, especially on Tim.

If Babs weren’t like my older sister/mentor/regular life-saver, I would be more jealous than I was. Not that I wasn’t happy with Tim, but I was human after all.

“Why do you ask?” She handed the chips back to me and slid back under when the screens flickered off and on again.

“Don’t know. Just curious.” I slowly slid a chip into my mouth as Dick ran a hand through his dark hair when he came back in the room. “If I had a smokin’ hot man-friend who walked around his apartment shirtless, I’d end up watching him all day.”

“He can be a little distracting when he’s just wandering around mostly naked, but most of the time he’s on patrol or watching basketball or something. Nothing exciting.” Something popped and the screens flickered, then finally stayed on. Dick was now laying on his back on the couch, one arm behind his head and the other dangling to the floor. It was like he was posing for us, like a freakin’ Greek god.

“So this is his less distracting mode?” I sucked the salt off my thumb. “This?”

“I’ve had to build up a tolerance, though any strength I’ve built up by pretending he’s not gorgeous goes to waste when he looks me in the eye and smiles.” She slid out again and sat up.

“That blue eyes, dark hair combo. Every. Freakin’. Time.” My breath still caught in my throat sometimes when Tim looked up at me suddenly and smiled when he was reading or something. Or when he rested his forehead on mine with his eyes still open, which he did when he was trying to convince me to watch yet another episode of Doctor Who. Then again, all I had to do was wear leggings or tight jeans around him and bend over and he was putty in my hands, so we were about even.

“Every time,” she echoed.  

Dick rolled over onto his stomach, his shorts sliding down his hips a little more. A bit of the fabric got pinched under his body, pulling it tighter across his butt. He stretched before burying his face in the pillow, his back muscles rippling, then squirmed a little in an effort to get comfortable. Mostly it looked like he was grinding against the couch, which was making me way more tingly than I should have been in the presence of my mentor.

 Babs reached over, aiming for the chips, but grabbing air instead because her eyes were glued to the screen.

“Uh, Babs?” I pushed the chips under her hand and she took a handful. 

She stuffed the chips in her mouth, her cheeks flushed. “We should get back to work.”


End file.
